


See What It Feels Like

by sunshineflying



Series: Kink Meme Fills [3]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Anger Sex, Angst, M/M, arguable dub-con
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-03
Updated: 2015-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-02 15:31:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,364
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4065124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sunshineflying/pseuds/sunshineflying
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Louis is upset that Zayn left the band, and maybe there's more to the situation than we all thought. He takes his anger out on Zayn in the form of goodbye sex. Full of angst, and no happy ending.</p>
            </blockquote>





	See What It Feels Like

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the 1D Kink Meme.
> 
> Note on the sex: Both Zayn and Louis are consenting to the sex. However, Zayn's reason for consenting isn't exactly "good" so this could be seen as dub-con. Please proceed with caution.

He doesn’t expect to see him. Not here. Not after everything.

Louis is fuming when he walks backstage after the show. Seeing Zayn was not in his plans for the rest of forever, even if he’s being overdramatic, because they were best friends and sort of more than that and then Zayn shit all over their relationship on Twitter for everyone to see. Louis is beyond pissed and still hasn’t forgiven him.

Zayn showing up at their first show back on tour makes Louis angry to no end, and he has half a mind to call him out on the bullshit right there in the middle of the show, but he can’t. He doesn’t want to upset the fans, and they have more unfinished business between them than the world can really handle. Zayn’s mere presence at the show is going to be news enough.

But then they’re backstage and Louis is fuming and his bandmates aren’t saying a damn thing and Louis decides something needs to be done.

He sees Zayn backstage too, and that’s what makes his rage take over him like he’s the Hulk and he’s ready to smash Zayn for what he did to them. “The fuck are you playing at?!” he shouts as he pushes Zayn up against the unforgiving brick wall.

Zayn hisses, slight pain shooting down his spine from the wall, but he doesn’t say anything.

“Louis,” Liam warns.

But someone stops Liam, though Louis isn’t sure who. It doesn’t much matter to him as he realizes that as quickly as Zayn had barged back into their lives, everyone has left them in the hallway alone.

Louis snarls and grabs the collar of Zayn’s shirt, pushing him into the green room so he can give him another rough shove, this time toward the couch in the center of the room. “You fucking bastard!” Louis shouts. “You take your fucking break and I think whatever, you needed it. And then that shit with fucking Naughty Boy goes down and I think maybe you’re just not paying attention to how awful it all looks or something. But then you say that shit to me on Twitter. In front of everyone. _That’s_ how you choose to tell me to fuck off!? After everything!?”

Louis is red faced and livid and Zayn can see it clear as day. Zayn’s itching for a cigarette to calm his nerves; he’d been banking on Louis’s usual habit of fucking off after a show to have a smoke. He’d wanted to avoid him. To avoid this.

“I’m sorry,” Zayn says, but Louis can’t hear any conviction behind the words. He doesn’t think they’re true even if Zayn really does mean them.

“Yeah, you’ll _be_ sorry,” Louis scoffs.

There’s a wild flash in Louis’s eyes, something dangerous, and it makes Zayn get to his feet as a chill shoots down his spine. Whatever comes next he deserves, he knows it.

“You fucked off without saying goodbye,” Louis shouts, an edge of sadness inching its way into his angry yells. “You… you fucking spent all night with Harry and Niall before you left.” Zayn opens his mouth but Louis cuts him off. “Don’t fucking argue. They told me you guys were up all night talking.” Zayn’s quiet again. “And you keep in touch with Liam. I see you two texting all the time. But me? We were… fucking hell Zayn, we were _us_. And you… no goodbye. No note. No kiss or sleep or fuck or anything. Not even a fucking reply to my text message.”

Louis is teetering on the precipice between screaming in anger and crying in hurt and frustration. Zayn reaches out to try to ease him away from anger, but a tight hand on his wrist stops him. “I fucking hate you for what you did to me,” Louis seethes, voice dangerous and low.

And then they’re lunging at each other and their lips crash together and Zayn’s hell-bent on apologizing without words while Louis just wants Zayn to know how much he hurt him. “Gonna make you wish you’d never hurt me,” Louis mutters, and he’s meant to be frightening but he’s just putting an ache in Zayn’s chest and a pooling warmth in his belly.

Talking things through has never been their strong suit and Louis just wants to touch Zayn again, needs to do this and get him out of his system. “Knees,” he commands, and Zayn does as he’s told.

Louis fumbles with the front of his jeans and Zayn reaches out to help. “Fuck off,” Louis says, slapping his hands away so he can do it himself. He pushes them down to his thighs along with his pants and demands, “Open up.”

And Zayn does. He wants to.

It’s a fucked up way to apologize but he wants Louis to get this out of his system. He wants him to lose that urge he has to shout or hurt him whenever he sees him. Part of him thinks he deserves it, the part of him that is opening his mouth willingly, letting Louis fuck his throat with almost painful audacity. He’s groaning and Louis is watching, holding Zayn’s head in place so he has him right where he wants him. “Stupid fucking buzz cut,” Louis hisses. “Nothing to hold on to, what the _fuck_.”

Zayn dances his tongue left to right the best he can, giving Louis a little extra, but that just earns him a rough slap on the cheek. “Just let me fucking use your mouth. _Fuck_ – how hard is this for you to understand?” he snaps.

Louis is angry, far angrier than Zayn’s ever seen him, but Zayn’s convinced himself this is what he needs to do to make it right so he does just as Louis wants. He rests his tongue on the bottom of his mouth, opens up, and stays still.

Each thrust feels rougher than the last, Louis’s cock pounding hard against the back of Zayn’s throat, making him gag every once in a while. “Won’t be able to sing for days. Weeks, even,” Louis mutters as he fucks Zayn’s mouth harder. “That’s what you fucking deserve for leaving like you did. You shouldn’t be able to sing with anyone,” he thrusts hard, pausing deep in Zayn’s throat, punctuating his word, “but,” he groans, thrusting hard and deep again, “us,” he says as he thrusts hard one last time. He holds it until Zayn’s squeezing half-moon marks into his hips, desperate for air.

Louis loosens his grip and Zayn pulls away, a string of spit hanging from the head of Louis’s cock to Zayn’s puffy red lower lip. Zayn’s gasping to fill his lungs with air. “Louis,” he says, meaning to apologize. His voice is incredibly hoarse, just like Louis wanted.

“Don’t,” Louis warns, eyes flashing dangerously. “Lean over the fucking table. Come on.”

He drags Zayn over by his shirt and pushes him face down onto the table, bent over with his ass on display. “It’ll never be the same as it used to be,” Louis says as he tugs Zayn’s jeans and pants down to his ankles. His voice is saccharine sweet and makes Zayn feel sick to his stomach. “Not after you left without a fucking goodbye. We were…” he begins, but he can’t finish because the memories are too much right now, too sad.

Zayn’s quiet as Louis preps him, and he’s still so he doesn’t upset Louis. He’s thankful for the reprieve from Louis’s rage as he uses plenty of lube on him. He’d been afraid that if this was where things were going, Louis wouldn’t bother, like he’d use roughness and no lube would be part of the punishment. “Why did you fucking do this to me?” Louis asks as he spins Zayn around onto his back.

Louis isn’t sure why he does it, but he can’t keep it totally impersonal with Zayn. Deep down he still cares about him, even if he’s angry and hurt beyond repair. He sees the hurt and the sadness in Zayn’s eyes, his realization that he’s _really_ fucked up, and that makes it better for Louis. At least Zayn knows he’s been wrong.

Louis pushes his cock deep into Zayn with no warning and no condom. They’ve done it bare plenty of times before. It’s habit for Louis. But it’s a habit he should break now, because they’re not together anymore, but it’s too late now. He pushes Zayn’s legs wide, watches as Zayn’s hand slides down his chest to stroke his hard, leaking cock. “Not a fucking chance,” Louis snaps, slapping Zayn’s hand away. “If you’re going to get off it’s going to be from my cock and nothing else.”

Zayn lowers his hand and nods, taking Louis’s commands because he knows Louis won’t listen to anything anyway. He’s too angry.

“You fucking _need_ me Zayn, d’you see that?” Louis growls, his hips slapping obscenely against Zayn’s thighs as he fucks him hard.

Zayn hears the sadness in Louis’s voice and the way it’s taking over the anger and pushing it away. Louis’s eyes look misty and shiny and Zayn hears the double meaning in his words.

_I fucking need you, Zayn._

He knows it, too. Zayn’s always known that Louis needs him the way he needs Louis in return. He knows he’s been unfair, that he was a coward when Louis was the most vulnerable he’d ever allowed himself to be around another person.

Louis is relentless and cold as he fucks Zayn, bringing him to that edge between pain and pleasure with how rough he’s being. Zayn groans and reaches out for Louis, whose thrusts are becoming more and more erratic. “I’m sorry, Louis,” he mumbles. “So sorry.”

Louis leans in, hands planted on the table on either side of Zayn’s body, and he looks into his eyes fully for the first time since this whole thing started. It feels far too intimate now. It’s uncomfortable.

They’re both trembling and sweaty and a few more thrusts have Zayn spilling come all over both of them. Louis moans as he feels Zayn’s body clenching around him and leans his head down as he comes hard inside of him, buried to the hilt.

Louis stays like that, his forehead against Zayn’s shoulder, and he sounds so weak as he says, “I told you I loved you and you left me. How am I supposed to forgive you for that?”

His eyes are wet and so is Zayn’s shoulder as Louis stands up and pulls out of Zayn. He’s pointedly avoiding Zayn’s eyes and wiping at his face in a way that’s probably meant to be secretive. “You’ve told me you loved me for years,” Zayn says as he sits up, his voice gravelly and rough.

“This was different and we both knew it,” Louis replies, defeated.

And yeah, Zayn knows, but he didn’t want to admit it at the time, to himself or anyone else. Louis already has his pants back up and he’s buttoning his jeans as he says, “I loved you, Zayn. And now I hate you.”

“Louis,” Zayn tries.

When Louis looks up, it’s heartbreaking. His eyes are blue and sparkling with tears and sadness and there’s guilt there that wasn’t there before, like he’s regretting what they’ve just done. “I don’t want to hear it, Zayn. You burned this fucking bridge, okay? I get it. We’re done. You don’t want me anymore. You never loved me, at least in the same way I loved you. And I’d started trying to move on. But then you came back and it’s fucking me up,” Louis says, his voice weak and full of sadness.

Zayn’s still on the damn table, wrecked and half-naked and covered in come as he listens. He’s getting choked up himself, if he’s being honest, but he owes this to Louis, to listen and be scolded. “This was about more than just me and you,” he offers.

Louis scoffs, shaking his head. “I don’t fucking care anymore. Don’t you get it?” Louis fixes Zayn with a strong glare as he says, “You broke my fucking heart and now I’m moving on. I don’t want you coming back into my life like this. I can’t handle it.”

And Zayn gets it. He does. He nods and says, “Okay.”

He stands up now, his legs unsteady, and he wipes himself off and dresses again as Louis drinks from a bottle of water on the other side of the green room. “I’m done with you, Zayn. Forever.”

And they know it’s not true, not totally, because contracts and other bullshit will mean they have to perform together again one day, but the relationship is gone. The hidden kisses and touches, the tender, lazy sex in hotel rooms after shows… it’s gone. Zayn threw it away and Louis had no choice but to do the same thing.

They lock eyes one more time, Zayn now dressed and decent again, and he nods. He understands, and he has to accept it. Louis blinks a few tears out of his eyes and he doesn’t even try to hide them as they streak down his cheeks. “Have fun with the others,” he says.  His voice is so soft Zayn can barely hear it through the silence. “Please don’t come find me. I don’t want to see you anymore. You never said it fully so now I will: we are _done_ , Zayn. Over.” Louis sniffles as he walks to the door, and on his way out he chances one last look over his shoulder. “Goodbye.”

And Zayn just watches him go because he knows he deserved it, knows that he brought this all on himself. When he got scared, he ran. He felt so strongly that he didn’t know what to do and in the end, that means he lost it, and he lost Louis.

He takes a deep breath and tries to compose himself the best he can, even when tears are threatening to fall from his own eyes. Out in the hallway, nobody is waiting for him. The hallways are eerily silent and totally abandoned.

Zayn doesn’t belong here anymore.


End file.
